Here I Am Again
by runrightback
Summary: Detective Rizzoli's father is murdered in New York City, and alongside Detective Beckett, she searches for the truth.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N In terms of Rizzoli & Isles, this takes place somewhere in the middle of season two.**

* * *

><p>This was not happening. Jane's whole world was tilting, there was blood on her hands and noise in her ears and everything was out of focus. Her gun was somewhere, she might have dropped it. Her fists were curled around something, fabric, someone's clothes, her father's. Her dad.<p>

Her dad was lying on the floor without a pulse.

Now someone was pulling her up, prying her away and she couldn't react correctly, she couldn't talk, yell, whisper, beg them to just leave her there. Just leave her there with him.

She felt cold metal on her wrists and some man was gripping her arm, walking her out of the room. Why didn't they understand she just wanted to stay with him for a few more minutes?

* * *

><p>Of that day, Jane had brief flashes of crystal clear memory and long periods of dullness where she couldn't remember much of anything; a fog covering all her senses, nulling them and numbing her mind.<p>

The interrogation was one of those numb moments.

* * *

><p>Detective Beckett came in tough, strong, purposeful. She was dealing with another cop this time, one who was extremely emotional and, judging from the ordeal that was getting her into the back of a squadcar, also potentially violent. Kate sat down opposite the suspect, keeping her eyes on the other detective, who's gaze was firmly aimed at the floor.<p>

"Detective Rizzoli." A picture slid across the table. "I understand this is your father?"

Jane studied the photograph. Why did they have to use _that_ picture? Could they not find one of him while he was alive? How long had it been since she had been taken away from him? How long had she been in holding that they already had the body taken to the morgue, taken pictures, and put together a case file for the woman across the table asking the questions? Hadn't it just been a moment ago that she felt his blood on her skin?

Unconsciously, her hand spread over the photograph, wanting to hear his voice, to see his smile, to have one more hug from her father. But it wasn't enough, her desire, so she curled her fingers and pushed the picture back across the table and nodded.

"Yes." _That's my dad._

"You're from Boston, what exactly were you doing here in New York?"

"Just…" Her eyes searched the room, unseeing. "He called me."

Rizzoli's voice was soft, so Beckett lowered hers to match it, "When did he call you?"

"About noon. He wanted me to come see him."

Kate glanced at the two-way, hoping Esposito understood her non-verbal message to check the victim's phone records to see if that was true. Bringing her focus back to Rizzoli, she continued, "Was that typical of him?"

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Jane answered, "No. No, I hadn't seen him since…" A breath. "I hadn't talked to him in a while. I need to call my Ma."

"Jane. What happened in there?" Kate was gentle, but she needed to hear the entire story. She doubted Rizzoli killed her own father, but it wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

A shaky hand combed through her hair, pushing it out of her face. Sharp memories tugged at her consciousness, she had just gotten off the elevator, just stepped into the hallway, when she heard the gunshot. One loud, resounding, pop from the end of the hall, and the screams of the neighbors. Her gun came out and she ran toward the source. The door had been open a crack. She paused when she noticed the number. 11D.

The same number he said over the phone.

"I just walked in and found him." Barely more than a whisper.

There had been a window open, she remembered that because she hadn't been wearing a jacket and it was cold. She had checked each room for the killer. He had to be hiding somewhere, but she couldn't keep looking because he was laying on the floor with a hole in his chest and a white shirt stained red and how did this happen?

Kate stood and Jane's gaze followed her. "I don't know how it happened, but we're going to do our best to figure it out. We'll get you a phone so you can call your family."

* * *

><p>Castle joined Kate outside the interrogation room and they walked to her desk. "You don't think she did it, do you?" In his version of this story, the daughter was not the killer.<p>

"I don't know yet." She knew the exasperated look he was giving her before she even turned her eyes toward him. "Castle, I don't want it to be her, but she has absolutely _no_ alibi, and a gun that could be a match."

"Oh, come on. She has no alibi because she was there! She practically witnessed the shooting."

"Except she didn't witness it. No one can put her in the hallway when the gun went off, and if it wasn't her, where did the killer go? Her story makes no sense, probably because she's so emotionally distraught from killing her own father that she can't come up with a better one."

They stopped in front of the murderboard. Kate studied the almost empty white board, Castle studied her. "Alright, but what's her motive?"

There was a pause while she thought it over. "Well he lived alone and we didn't see a wedding ring. Maybe it had something to do with her mother?"

"Maybe… Didn't she say the window was open when she went in?"

"Yeah, why?"

"That's it! The killer obviously went out onto the balcony and crawled down to the alley where his escape car was waiting to take him away, probably to the airport, and from there, someplace tropical…"

"Really, Castle?" Her eyebrow went up and his expression lost a little excitement at her tone. "You think we didn't check that? There is no balcony; there is no ladder to the alley. It's just a window. And the window that does have a balcony was locked. From the inside."

"Oh." He frowned. Kate suppressed a laugh because she would swear she could see the inner parts of his brain working the problem.

She left him alone to concoct ideas as she went to the Captain's office to give her an update on the Rizzoli case. When Kate came back to her desk about five minutes later, Castle was in the exact same spot, eyes fixed on the almost-blank murderboard, hands fidgeting with his phone but not really paying attention.

"Maybe… some coffee would help?" It was really more a suggestion to give Castle something to do; he looked like he could use a break.

Tearing his eyes away long enough to glance at her, he nodded. "Yeah, that'd be great."

Kate opened her mouth, and then closed it.

Sensing her inaction, Castle turned toward her. "Oh." He registered the look on her face. "You meant I should… Right."

"Well I just, I have some phone calls to make."

"Sure." He shrugged and headed toward the break room. As he was turning on the espresso machine, he noticed the suspect, Jane, through the window. She was standing with a uniform, a phone pressed to her ear.

* * *

><p>By some miracle, she had kept it together. Jane didn't break throughout the interrogation. She was just starting to think that maybe she had control when they let her use the phone. Her first call went to voicemail, so she tried again.<p>

It was as if Maura's voice was the key to open the floodgates.

"Jane? What's wrong?"

Jane felt overwhelmed, and incredibly alone in this New York precinct. She didn't know how to start.

"Are you okay? Did something happen?"

"I'm okay, I…" She took a deep breath, wishing she could talk face to face with Maura. "I'm not okay, but I'm not hurt."

"Jane?"

"Is my Ma there? She didn't answer her phone."

"She went out to get some groceries for dinner, she must have left her phone here. Do you want me to tell her to call you when she gets back?"

"No, I don't have all day. Look, Maura… I need you to tell her something for me," Here Jane completely broke down. Her father had been shot. She was currently the only suspect. She was miles away from home, and she couldn't even let her mother know personally. But Maura could, and out of everyone she knew, Jane was glad it was her. "Can you tell her… Tell her my dad's dead."


	2. Chapter 2

Jane slowly picked up the pieces of herself after talking with Maura. Inch by inch she covered herself, pulling her barriers back up again, restoring, or attempting to restore, what had been lost that day.

She hadn't even had a chance to talk to him.

Swallowing hard, she pushed out the thought that she would never be the same.

As soon as she got her phone back, she called her Ma. It wasn't enough, to talk on the phone, to hear Frankie's voice break as he asked when Jane was coming back, to know that her family was mourning, and they missed her. Tommy was there too, he wasn't talking much. Just trying to hold it together for the other two.

And where was Jane? In New York, in a bathroom stall at the 12th precinct of the NYPD, crying over the phone with her mother.

"Maura wants to come see you." Angela sniffled over the phone.

"No, Ma tell her there's no reason for her to come down here, I'm fine. I'll be back in a few days okay? Here, just put her on the phone."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"She's busy, Jane."

"Fine, just tell her what I said alright?"

If it was difficult talking to her mom, it was even harder saying goodbye. But Jane needed to pull herself together before going back out there; she had a murder to solve, and a few New York detectives to win over in the process.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean, she's on the case?" Beckett's voice was muffled through the glass, but they all heard it. Ryan, Esposito, Castle, and even Rizzoli, who was sitting in Esposito's chair, which he had graciously offered, was staring with an air of mild interest directed toward the Captain's office. Beckett tended to talk with her hands so the whole team, plus one, understood pretty clearly her stance on the situation.<p>

Rizzoli chuckled, "I take it she doesn't like to share."

"She's just, uh…" Ryan struggled to find the right word.

The writer among them stepped in to assist, "She's just protective of her team. We're like a family, so she can get almost territorial. And you're a wild card; Beckett has no idea how you fit into the group, or if you'll fit in at all."

"Control freak." Esposito shrugged.

Esposito had stolen Ryan's chair so Ryan claimed Beckett's. He frowned at Rizzoli. "What did you say to Gates anyway to get on the case?"

"I know some people." A vague shrug

Intrigued, Castle asked, "Mayor of Boston? Because I've personally found that mayors can be very influential."

Jane gave a half-hearted laugh. "No, no, just the Captain over at BPD. I'm not sure what he said but I guess it worked."

They couldn't hear the last half of the conversation, but they were all smart enough to infer the outcome from the lethal expression on Beckett's face as she exited the Captain's office. She walked, dangerously silent, to her desk and trained her gaze on Ryan. Scrambling to get out of her way, he jumped out of her chair and, as Espo didn't look like he would be giving Ryan's chair back anytime soon, stood awkwardly by the murderboard. Leaning back in her chair, arms crossed and brow furrowed, Beckett finally looked at Rizzoli. "Don't get in the way of my investigation."

The Boston detective smirked. This woman was good, but Jane wasn't one to be intimidated. "I'll try not to."

The boys watched, almost in awe. Neither woman had said much of anything, but if body language was anything to go by, they were having a knockdown drag-out fight with just their posture and eyebrow raises. Everything Beckett was giving, the alpha-female attitude underlying a calm exterior, the full-on eye contact to ensure the other woman knew she meant business, all her interrogation room tricks, Rizzoli was throwing right back at her.

The staring contest lasted just a moment longer and, wow, Castle had been on the receiving end of some _looks_, but this was in a whole new category. Beckett finally cleared her throat and looked away. "Ryan, tell her where we are so far."

"Right, well the, uh," After mentally stumbling over the word _victim_ because of the look on Rizzoli's face, Ryan tried again. "Uniforms canvassed the whole floor, and so far no one saw anyone go in or out of Frank's place, except one guy who saw a woman with a gun, and a little girl who thinks she may have seen a man knocking on his door."

"Well the woman is obviously me, but who's the guy?"

"All the girl could say was that she saw a man knocking on the door, and the only reason she noticed him is because he was wearing bright green sneakers. She was just getting home from school with her mom, who said it was somewhere after 3:30."

Running a hand through her hair, Rizzoli sighed. "Great, a male killer with green shoes. What a description."

"We found Frank's phone, we're tracking down his girlfriend now."

Jane's head snapped up, eyes wide and fixed on Ryan. "Girlfriend?"

"You didn't know he had one?" Castle frowned.

"No… That's… Who is she?"

"All we know so far is that her name is Alexis."

It was so hard for Jane to fathom everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Who the hell was this Alexis? Could she have gotten him into trouble, gotten him killed? Her head felt fuzzy, like static was building up in her brain, making her unable to focus.

She hardly noticed when Esposito got the call from tech, telling him the girlfriend's address from her number in her dad's phone.

Outside the precinct, Castle opened the door to get in the car after Beckett unlocked it. Meeting Rizzoli's gaze however, her questioning, expecting, almost daring gaze, he decided he'd better let her sit up front, and gestured toward the open seat, pretending his intention had always been to open the door for her.

"Thank you, Mr. Castle." She smiled brightly. Settling in and buckling her seatbelt, Jane glanced at Beckett, "What a gentleman you have here."

With a tight smile she started the car. "Yeah. One of his better qualities."

From the backseat, Castle interjected, "I am also an amazing cook. I make the best smorelette you will ever taste."

Rizzoli looked from his face to Beckett's, hoping to find an explanation. Kate only offered, "Ignoring him usually works."

Jane spent the car ride surreptitiously studying the other detective and the writer. By the end of it, she had discovered three things. Castle was _obsessed_ with his phone, Beckett was really good at avoiding traffic, and the pair had one of the most unusual relationships she had ever encountered.

A girlfriend. So what if Jane's dad had a girlfriend? He was an adult; he was allowed to have relationships without her knowing. He was allowed to do whatever he wanted, and never check in with his kids, and never call to see how they're doing, and—

No. She would not get into this. Not now.

"Are you okay?" Castle's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. They had just stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway of the apartment building in Midtown where the girlfriend lived. Obviously Rizzoli hadn't been able to mask her emotions as well as she hoped.

"Fine."

He wouldn't ask any farther, he didn't know her well enough. And she was glad. From what she'd seen, Castle was nice, but Jane would rather he kept his focus on Beckett, who, she was surprised to find out, was not his girlfriend.

Damn, speaking of girlfriends, Beckett was already knocking on the woman's door, and Jane was about to meet this Alexis.

There wasn't an answer, so she tried again. "Alexis Pierce? This is the NYPD, open up."

The trio could hear movement from inside, and Beckett's hand moved over her gun as she glanced at Castle. There was no need for the gun, however, as the door opened up to a thoroughly unintimidating, barely dressed, and extremely young woman. No, not a woman. A girl.

Her face was full of innocence as she asked in a high-pitched voice, "Oh my god, is something wrong?"

Jane's eyes narrowed. "_You're_… Alexis Pierce?"

"Yes, why?"

"Are you kidding me?" Pinching the bridge of her nose, Jane had to turn away to calm herself down. The girl was younger than herself. She looked fresh out of college.

Beckett flashed her badge, "Ms. Pierce, we have a few questions for you. It's about Frank Rizzoli."

"Oh no, did something happen to Frankie?"

Jane's vision blurred for a moment. Frankie. And the way she said it, like they were close, like she had any right to give him a nickname. She would have punched the girl right then and there if Beckett hadn't noticed the look in her eyes, reached out to touch her shoulder and meet her gaze. Kate pulled her aside and said in a low voice, "Stay out here and cool down, alright?"

Before she could even answer Beckett took the girl inside to talk. Strangely though, Castle stayed in the hallway with Rizzoli.

"Hey."

Instead of replying, Jane leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, and slid down, resting on the floor in the middle of the hallway. After a brief pause, she heard Castle sitting down across from her.

Neither spoke for a while, and Jane couldn't decide if she wanted him to leave or if she was glad for the company. She hadn't talked to Maura since the phone call earlier. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she noticed the battery was all but dead and she remembered that she didn't charge it last night.

"Fantastic." She carelessly dropped it on the floor beside her.

"You can use my phone, if you need to."

Jane glanced at him, wondering why he was offering and if he had a hidden motive. "No thanks."

"Do you… want to talk about your dad?"

Yes. Tell him everything. Tell him how bad it hurts and let him feel sorry. Let him ache too. Put the burden on someone else, if just for a moment. Let him inside, let him see what's real, what's raw. But letting someone in means putting yourself out there to be hurt again. It's a risk. No one can tamper with emotions that are kept inside. So don't. Don't say anything. He doesn't need to feel your pain, he has enough. Don't let him in because what he finds might scare him off. Just say…

"No."

Their eyes met. She was hiding, and they both knew it.

Castle nodded, "Okay. Well, I'm here. If you need someone."

"Thanks." And Jane meant it. She didn't have anyone in New York, but she couldn't leave, not with the case just starting and her dad's killer still out there. The need to know drove her, for her dad, for her brothers, for herself, to know that he was still the man they remembered.


	3. Chapter 3

"You know, my daughter's name is Alexis."

Jane glanced at Castle, sitting across from her on the floor of the hallway, a smile ghosting over her lips.

"She's actually not much younger than this girl…" His trail of thought was easy to follow.

"I don't think you have to worry about her ending up in this situation." She gestured toward the inside of the apartment. "Girls like those… usually have Daddy issues. And you seem like a pretty great guy."

Castle wasn't sure what to say. She didn't need to comfort him just because he was troubled by this girl, but she did. He tried to give some comfort back.

"We're gonna catch the guy who did this. I know you're worried you'll let him down, but you won't. Beckett… She's the best. And she knows what you're going through. She won't stop until we figure it out. Okay?"

Jane's mouth had gone dry at hearing him voice her fears. Before she could answer, before she could ask about Beckett, the door beside her opened and the other detective walked out. Castle got up off the floor quickly and offered a hand to Rizzoli, who ignored it.

"Anything useful?" Jane asked.

"Yeah. You're not going to like it though."

* * *

><p>"He was not pushing drugs!"<p>

It was the third time she'd said it.

No one really believed her. They tried, but their eyes kept saying _you can't be sure _and _people change. _But this was her daddy, and he was a plumber. He had been all his life. He wouldn't have packed up and moved to New York to become a drug dealer. Jane knew that.

The voice in the back of her head whispered that maybe she didn't know him at all.

Alexis Pierce had admitted that she and Frank weren't dating, but she was often over at his place, which is why Frank's neighbors might have thought they were. She said Frank was working for some guy named Ivan and he had mentioned it "wasn't exactly legal".

The New York detectives filled Jane in on Ivan. Russian immigrant turned drug lord. Only guy tough enough to compete with Ray Santori, the drug king of SoHo.

Beckett was staring at the murderboard. "If Frank was working for Ivan, he was involved in some really heavy dealing. Let's bring him in, see if he'll talk."

Jane stayed behind at the precinct while Castle and Beckett went to get Ivan, partly because she was mentally exhausted and partly because she knew it was a waste of time.

* * *

><p>"You don't like her." Castle watched as Beckett put on her turn signal and took an early left to avoid a collision farther up the block.<p>

"I don't dislike her…" She corrected, "I just think she's way too compromised to be working this case."

"Beckett."

"What?"

He didn't want to bring it up, he really didn't. But this was not going to be another Serena Kaye situation. If they were going to solve this one, Beckett and Rizzoli were going to have to work together. "This doesn't remind you of a case you worked on? A case you've _been _working on for years? Or are you ignoring the similarities on purpose?"

"Castle, don't—"

"Kate, if there's one thing I have learned from working with you, it's that the moment when you're most compromised is the moment when you'll do anything for the truth. You'll work harder than you ever have. I know that's when you're at your weakest. But it's also when you're at your strongest."

There was a long pause. Then, "This isn't about me, Castle."

"I know."

Another pause. He was afraid that might be the end of the conversation.

She parked the car and turned it off. "But you're right. I have been there. I am there. And I don't want her to feel like I do. I want her to have closure."

Their eyes met and he nodded. "She will." He resisted the urge to add _you will too, someday._

* * *

><p>Ivan (the 6 foot 6 <em>giant<em>) in the interrogation room. Castle sitting across from him. Beckett leaning against the wall by the door.

Rizzoli surveyed the action from the observation room.

Beckett was looking over Ivan's file while the Russian had a staring contest with Castle. Well, Castle was mostly just trying to look like he _wasn't_ intimidated.

"Ivan Kozlov."

The man grunted in reply.

The door to the observation room opened and Esposito leaned in and asked Jane if he could join her.

"Sure."

Beckett pulled out a picture of Frank, the same one she had showed Rizzoli, and placed it in front of Ivan.

"Do you know this man?"

He picked up the photograph to give it a closer inspection. "No."

Castle raised his eyebrows. "That's funny, because he knew you."

Sitting down next to Castle, Beckett sighed. "Ivan, we know he worked for you."

Ivan looked from the detective to the writer, down to the picture, and back to Beckett. "This guy?"

The pair nodded at the same time.

"This… Frank guy? I don't know him. Not one of mine."

Beckett glanced sideways at Castle, frowning. "And you're… sure about that?"

"I know who works for me. This guy… I've never seen him in my life. Now if we are finished talking." Ivan stood and offered his hand. Beckett shook it grudgingly. "Thank you so much for bringing me down here, Detective." He shook Castle's hand and grinned widely. "What a lovely way to spend my evening."

With that he walked out the door.

Rizzoli sighed and shook her head. "I knew this wouldn't lead anywhere. I told you he wasn't in the drug business. We're wasting time."

"Hey." Espo put a hand on her arm to get her to stop pacing the small room. "Beckett was just being thorough."

"Yeah, I know, I've heard all about the wonders of Detective Beckett. She's the best and she's gonna solve the case, whatever. But she's not doing what's important, like focusing on Alexis Pierce."

"What makes you think we should look at her?"

Jane fidgeted with her hands. "I don't know. I just have this feeling, like she's hiding something."

It wasn't something she could vocalize, but she needed him to understand how she felt. How there was something… off about Alexis.

Esposito nodded slowly.

The door opened and Beckett put on a polite smile. "It's getting late, I think we're going to call it for today. You have somewhere to stay, Rizzoli?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good. Thanks." In truth, she didn't have anywhere, but she would get a cab to take her to the nearest hotel. A nice hotel, not the sketchy kind where people were murdered. But an inexpensive one. Which might be harder to find in New York City than she thought.

"Alright. Goodnight guys."

Espo gave Beckett a small wave. "See you tomorrow." He turned to Rizzoli. "Ryan and I can run a check on Alexis first thing tomorrow morning?"

"That would be great, thanks."

"No problem. Walk you out?"

Esposito was going to wait outside with Jane until she had hailed a cab, but there was no need. As soon as they exited the building she heard a familiar voice shout her name from across the street. Scanning the row of parked cars and the sidewalk full of people, Rizzoli found the source of the yelling in a blonde medical examiner, who was wearing a yellow and white dress, smiling brightly, and looking thoroughly out of place in New York. Well it wasn't that she really looked out of place, but Jane's mind had a hard time placing her there.

"Oh, um, I know her. So… I'll just be going. Thank you again, and I will see you in the morning."

He watched as Rizzoli crossed the street to the other woman, and then he got into his car and went home.

"Jane!" Maura waved as she came closer.

"Maura! What are you doing here?" She glanced around nervously. How long had she been waiting out here?

"Well you're all alone here and your mother was worried and I just, I thought you might need some help on the case. And a friend." She shrugged slightly. "I am sorry, about what happened, Jane. Your dad was a great guy, he didn't deserve—"

"Thank you, Maura. Can we just…" The detective ran a hand through her hair and encountered a tangled mess. "Did you get a hotel room?"

Jane sounded exhausted and annoyed, which told Maura a lot about the state of the investigation.

"Yes, I booked us at the GEM in Chelsea."

"Sounds fancy." She got in the passenger side of the rental car. Normally she would ask Maura to let her drive but she was too tired this time, and she assumed the other woman knew how to get to the hotel.

* * *

><p>"Well this is…" Jane narrowed her eyes. Maura had given her the key so she was the first one in the room.<p>

Maura peeked over Jane's shoulder. The latter had stopped in the doorway so Maura hadn't even seen it yet.

"Hmm. Very chic. Modern." She pushed her farther into the room so she could get out of the hallway.

"I was thinking small."

"Yes, it did look larger in the pictures online."

After doing a quick 360, Jane frowned. "Maura, did you have to book a one-bed room?"

"Oh, I swear I said two. Hang on, I'll call them."

The detective shook her head. "No, no, it's fine. Really. I call the side by the window."

"You sure?"

Jane smiled softly. "Yeah."

Maura began unpacking and hanging up her clothes. "I had them bring some wine to our room," she gestured toward the bottle sitting on the table beside two glasses. "I thought you could use it, after today."

"Fantastic."

After pouring a glass for both of them, Jane kicked off her shoes and sat on the bed, leaning against the mountain of pillows at the headboard.

Maura joined her and it was then that Jane realized how much she had been holding in that day because there hadn't been anyone she trusted with her feelings.

She took a sip of her wine and realized she didn't want it. As she set her glass on the bedside table, Maura asked if there was something wrong with the drink.

"No, it's fine. I just…" She tightened her jaw and Maura could see her blinking rapidly, pushing back tears. "It just hurts. That he's gone. My daddy. He was there and now he's not and it hurts."

Quickly setting her wine glass aside, Maura pulled her in for a hug. "Tell me where it hurts."

Jane pulled back to look at her, confused, thinking that Maura really didn't get it, but then it dawned. Of course the doctor would compartmentalize; if the pain is physical it can be treated. If you can pinpoint the source you can heal it. But it wouldn't exactly work that way. Not this time.

"Everywhere. I don't think you can fix it."

"Let me try." Her earnest look made Jane smile. "What can I do to help?"

"I don't know. But you being here is a good start. Thank you for coming."

Maura tilted her head and smiled. "I'd go anywhere for you." She briefly touched her arm before getting off the bed and going to her suitcase to finish unpacking.

She had said it casually, but it meant so much to Jane.


End file.
